


Paradise

by xheybails



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2018-02-18 06:15:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2338136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xheybails/pseuds/xheybails
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She smiles and the next thing you know, you are at her side, pulling her in, arms tight around her petite waist.  She turns her head and you catch her scent and you have no idea what it is but to you it’s paradise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paradise

You hear her speak, but she’s not making any sense.  
  
 _Tell him?  Tell him what?_  
  
You send her a look that you’re sure she’s used to by now, she’s seen it enough at crime scenes and in the morgue and at the bar and at her house and in the car and you think you should work on giving her that look a little less.  
  
But she’s truly lost you this time.  
  
A beat passes and she speaks again, and this time, recognition hits you like a freight train.  She smiles and the next thing you know, you are at her side, pulling her in, arms tight around her petite waist.  She turns her head and you catch her scent and you have no idea what it is but to you, it’s paradise.  
  
You try and cover for her, think of anything to get the two of you out of this mess, but she leans back into you a little harder and all thought leaves your mind.  You know you need to say something; you need to save her because you know she will never be able to save herself.  
  
This is what she has you for.  
  
But your mind is blank.  Every ounce of your willpower is spent trying to keep your fingertips from traveling a little lower, from pulling her in closer, from turning her around and pushing her up against the car and feeling her skin on your skin, audience be damned.  
  
But all you can get out are two short words.  
  
She attempts to take the reins again and you’re sure she’s disappointed in you.  She would say it was impossible, but you’re sure you can read her mind and you’re sure she’s thinking you should have been able to do better than that.  
  
And you should have.  
  
But she’s moving her hips slowly from side to side and her hands are on yours and all you can feel is the way her fingers are barely locked between yours, holding you there against her and you can’t think of anything but paradise.  
  
He’s smiling like she’s looking at him like he’s the only guy on earth even though you’re pretty sure she’s not.  Well, you hope she’s not.  
She looks at you like that sometimes and it’s all you can do to act like nothing happened.  But she smiles and she grazes your arm with her hand and your skin is on fire under her touch.  You let your mind wander to images of skin on skin, breath hot, her blonde curls falling onto the pillow next to yours.  
  
And it’s paradise.  
  
She’s still speaking and you hear her stumble over her words.  You pull yourself out of your daydream just in time to hear her stutter a bit followed by an ‘um’; a word that never falls from her lips.  
  
You pick up her sentence for her and as soon as you do you want to curl up in a ball and hide away somewhere because you know you’ve just disappointed her again.  
  
 _Smooth.  Real smooth._  
  
You raise your eyebrows like you meant something other than what you said, though you still aren’t entirely sure what it is that you meant.  Out of the corner of your eye, you can see she’s playing along and you’re grateful she’s a much better actress than she is a liar.  
  
He’s looking at the two of you like he has no clue and part of you is cursing her for not listening to you in the first place, for getting you involved in this mess even though you’re her savior and her protector and it’s your job to fix this for her.  
  
The other part of you is thanking your lucky stars and praying to God and promising to be a better person because it’s only been a minute of standing here like this, pressed up against her, but you can see her smiling and it’s paradise.  
  
You try and keep talking but you know you’re not making any sense and you’ve interrogated enough suspects to know that you’re digging a hole and it’s getting deeper by the second.  Soon you won’t be able to see the sunlight streaming down on the two of you.  
  
She speaks again but is absolutely no help.  Not that you expected much from her, you really don’t know what she was thinking, trying to pull off a ruse like this, even if this guy is possibly the most idiotic man on the planet.  
  
She still can’t tell a lie and you know it’s up to you to fix this for her.  
  
You steal a look at her and she’s nearly wincing, almost pained to hear you struggle over your words.  You don’t blame her.  Inside, you’re cringing too.  
  
Normally you’re cool and calm and collected and you know just what to say and who to say it to, but right now your best friend is closer than she’s ever been and that scent is finding it’s way to you again and her skin is soft on yours and her hands fit perfectly against you.  
  
And it’s paradise.  
  
You can’t think of anything other than how you’ve been holding back so much from her, how you’re scared to know what she thinks and how she feels but all you want is this, right here, the two of you wrapped up in each other.  
  
The two of you in paradise.  
  
You give one last attempt at an explanation that still doesn’t really make sense, but you’re hoping is coherent enough to be the end of the conversation.  
  
You feel her nodding against you and she’s smiling and you feel like you’ve won the lottery because she seems to be satisfied with your answer and even though you’re not entirely sure what you said, you can hear her thoughts again and she’s not disappointed.  
  
You give him a wink.  A suggestive raise of the eyebrows and she’s nodding again.  
  
You want to look at her, you want to see what she’s thinking and what she’s feeling and if this is as real for her as it is for you, but you’re scared to see that absence, to see how much she doesn’t want you, to see how much she doesn’t love you, so you keep your eyes forward.  
  
He seems to get it but you can see that it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.  But, wait a second, there it is.    
  
She laughs and you can see her smile and you can practically feel how happy she is and it makes you happy to know that you’re the one who caused this reaction in her.  
  
She leans back into you again and you want to stop time and live in this moment for the rest of your life.  You don’t even care that he’s here, that you would have to spend the rest of your life a few feet from him, because she is flush against you and you know there’s nothing better in the world than this moment.  
  
She squeezes your hand a little tighter, an acknowledgement of how grateful she is, but she doesn’t need to tell you.  You already know.  
  
She sways again and you’re grateful you don’t need to say anything else, you can smile and you can nod and of course, your hips move in time with hers and you wonder what it would feel like to be this close to her in the comfort of your own home.  
  
You realize it would feel like paradise.  
  
He’s talking and then she’s talking but you’re not hearing a word, you’re dreaming of paradise and her skin against yours and her fingers tangled in your hair and your name tumbling from her lips.  
  
She speaks and you are brought out of your dream once again and before you can stop them, the two tiny words are tumbling from your mouth and you don’t know if you’ve said them as part of your game or not.  At first you hope she didn’t hear, they were nothing more than a whisper, you’re sure he didn’t catch them.  
  
But you see her eyes dart to you after your words and you know she heard.  Know she is wondering the same as you, was that part of the game, or was that real?  
  
Maybe you will never know.  
  
Part of you hopes she will think it’s real and force you to stop hiding from your feelings; to stop hiding from her.  But you know that is too much to hope for.  
  
You give him a sympathetic smile; you’d be crushed too if you were him, and oh, how you could so easily be him.  But you’re not him, you’re pressed against her and she’s pressed against you and even if it’s not real, you’re still the one with her in your arms.  
  
And it’s paradise.  
  
He turns to walk away and you regretfully loosen your grip around her waist.  She’s barely out of your grasp when you see him turn back toward you and you seize your opportunity, pulling her back in for more.  
  
He’s speaking to her again and you look at him like he’s full of shit.  
  
Well, you hope he’s full of shit.  
  
But then you worry because she’s almost buying it and everything could go so wrong in the next few seconds.  You panic, you turn to look at her and squeeze her waist tighter, reminding her that for all intents and purposes, she is yours in this moment.  
  
She responds and you pull back slightly, stunned at her words.  
  
No, not stunned.  
  
Offended.  
  
You don’t know if you’re more offended at the complete 180 in her tone, at the way she’s ruining everything you just nearly killed yourself to do for her, or if it’s that she’s acting like you’re no longer there.  
  
Like she’s not yours.  
  
And you know she’s not.  
  
But he doesn’t.  
  
So you’re offended.  This was her idea after all; she can’t just disregard you like that.  So you flee.  And you’ll be damned if you’re not taking her with you.  
  
You take her by the arm, not in the soft way you held her before, but in a way that you know she can sense your agitation.  You all but push her in the car, now desperately wishing to be anywhere but here, even though here was your paradise just thirty seconds ago.  
  
He just won’t stop talking and you don’t even try to hide your eyes rolling, don’t try to disguise the grumble in your voice, the slam of the car door.  
  
If she was looking, she wouldn’t have been able to miss the stomp in your step, but she’s not looking and that makes you stomp even more.  
  
You don’t know how you went from paradise to hell in less than a minute, but you know you want your paradise back.  
  
You exchange a few more not-so-pleasant pleasantries and pull away from the building.  Twenty feet away at the nearest stop sign, you steal a look at her and you can’t help but grin at the look on her face.  
  
Her skin is smooth and her eyes are bright and her smile is fixed on you, the one that makes you feel like the only person in the world and her voice is dripping with honey and she’s thanking you.  
  
You melt.  
  
And you know she’s your paradise.   


End file.
